


she has flown too close to the sun

by deathsweetqueen



Series: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019 [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Domestic Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Time Travel, Toni Stark is the Best Mum, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21593104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: Toni finishes the last line of coding for DUM-E’s operating system and leans back, as the robot powers up.“Come on, come on,” she mutters.There’s a bang, and she screams, scrabbling up onto the bed, and there’s a lot of smoke that makes her cough and her lungs hurt, and when she’s done hacking up half of her respiratory system, she peers over DUM-E’s strut, only to see a strange man standing inside her apartment.“I was not on acid, I swear,” she blurts out.The man looks up, sees her sitting on the bed, with her two braids over her shoulders, her thin little tank top and short shorts, bare feet but for cheap gold anklets, and says, “shit.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1449166
Comments: 32
Kudos: 385
Collections: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019





	she has flown too close to the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "time travel" square of the Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019.
> 
> Check the warnings, just to be safe. There is some kinky sex in this, fair warning.

Toni finishes the last line of coding for DUM-E’s operating system and leans back, as the robot powers up.

“Come on, come on,” she mutters.

There’s a bang, and she screams, scrabbling up onto the bed, and there’s a lot of smoke that makes her cough and her lungs hurt, and when she’s done hacking up half of her respiratory system, she peers over DUM-E’s strut, only to see a strange man standing inside her apartment.

“I was not on acid, I swear,” she blurts out.

The man looks up, sees her sitting on the bed, with her two braids over her shoulders, her thin little tank top and short shorts, bare feet but for cheap gold anklets, and says, “shit.”

Toni climbs to her feet, planting her hands on her hips, and stares him down, now a good two heads taller than him, her hair brushing the ceiling.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demands, her voice flat.

The man holds his hands up. “I can explain. Can I just… uh, this will all make a lot more sense if I can just…” he motions to the clasp of his cowl.

“Are you seriously dressed up as Captain America?” she asks, incredulously. “Dude, it’s June. Halloween is four months away, and your costume is… it’s just tacky. It’s not even remotely close to the real thing.”

“That’s what I said, but no…” the man mutters under his breath. “Can I please just…” he motions again to his cowl.

Toni snatches up the screwdriver rolling back and forth over the bed and brandishes it like a knife.

“Go right ahead. But any funny business, and I will stab you,” she warns.

The man’s mouth twitches. “Understood.”

Toni seethes a little.

The man licks his lips and unclasps his cowl, pulling it off his head, revealing a chiselled jaw, beautiful, blue eyes, like a still sea before a storm, and a head of golden hair, windswept and slightly dark and damp with sweat.

“Oh,” she says, the breath rushing out of her lungs. “What the fuck?”

The man winces. “Okay, I know you must be confused-”

“Is this a Russian plot?” Toni asks, coldly.

“What?” the man says, bemused.

“Is this a Russian plot?” Toni asks again. “My dad says I’m supposed to be worried about Russian people making contact with me because they’re trying to get to him,” she says, voice thin with disgust. “And I, like, don’t listen to him because it’s _him_ and on principle, I have to do the exact opposite of what he says, so it’s totally cool if you are, but I’d like to know.”

“I’m not a Russian plot.”

“Are you sure?” Toni pushes. “Because you look like Steve Rogers, and last I checked, Steve Rogers was fish food at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. Okay, that might be a slight error, because I saw this documentary on what could actually be at the bottom of that ocean, because apparently humans have only explored like a tiny bit of it, and there are like giant tapeworms and spiders and shit down there that grow up to like ten feet and _ew_ , I hope he’s not down _there_.”

“I am Steve Rogers,” the man says, and his face betrays none of the confusion that normal people display when she talks to them.

“Like I said, not possible,” Toni declares.

He offers her a tentative smile, showing a line of pearly white teeth. “I know, it’s difficult to believe, because, like you said, right now, there’s a Steve Rogers who is fish food at the bottom of the Arctic. He’s not really fish food, though, because he’s actually alive.”

For a brief moment, the air stills in her lungs.

“What?” she asks in a small voice. “He’s still alive?”

“Yeah, he, _me_ , _I’m_ still alive,” he says, lightly, kindly. “I’ll be pulled out in 2012, but… I am Steve Rogers, Toni. I’m Steve Rogers from 2015.”

“How is that even possible?” she asks, her eyes wide like a nervous doe.

“Time travel.” Steve shrugs.

Her heart flutters in her ears. “So, time travel, that’s a… that’s a thing?” she stumbles out.

“It is now, for us,” Steve hedges.

“For _us_?”

Steve cracks a smile. “The Avengers.”

“And who are the Avengers?” she asks, a tingle itching under her skin.

“A team of superheroes, who fight… well, fight everything that humans can’t normally fight, like aliens and witches and giant, planet-eating monsters,” Steve explains.

Toni abruptly feels dizzy, and her foot slips on the bedsheets. She falls onto the bed, back first, and the air drags out of her lungs. Something cold touches her feet, and when she looks up, it’s DUM-E, blessedly, it’s DUM-E who’s nudging at her with his claw, insistently, like he’s worried about her, like he’s concerned.

“Oh,” she says and crawls forward.

She pokes at him, and he whines, nudging back.

Her eyes fill with tears, and she throws her arms around the robot’s strut, nudging her nose against the cool metal.

DUM-E chirps in her ear.

“I know, baby. I’m here,” she soothes.

She looks up over the strut, only to find Steve leaning against the wall, in that uniform that continues to be tacky but stretches across his broad shoulders, his hard-cut chest, his long, lean legs. He’s giving her a soft, fond look, like cotton candy, and a sliver of warmth curls in her chest, like pleasure, making her flush and look away.

“What?” she asks, blustering, straightening her shoulders.

“Nothing,” he says, simply. “I just didn’t expect to see you like this, so young.”

Toni peers at him, carefully. “So, you know me where you come from?” she asks, carefully.

“I do,” he says, gently.

“And, what am I like?” she asks, unable to help her own curiosity.

Steve shrugs. “Brave, kind, smart, fierce, beautiful.”

She laughs, short and sharp. “That’s not who I am,” she says, with an unsure tongue.

He tilts his head, pushing himself off the wall. “What are you talking about?” he asks, the dark blonde slash of his eyebrows drawn together.

“I’m not those things,” she blurts out, her mouth dry as sawdust. “I’m not… I’m not brave or kind or fierce. I mean, I’ll give you beautiful; enough guys have told me that, and I can objectively agree that I match the standards of beauty that society finds pleasing, but I mean, my hair, it can be frizzy, and it needs a lot to, you know, tame it, and a lot of people, they don’t like my colour-”

“They’re idiots,” Steve cuts her off, solid, unyielding as stone. “They’re all idiots, Toni. They…” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “They’re all so fucking stupid and brainless and can’t see what’s in front of them past their own dicks. You are worth a thousand of all of them.”

Oh, wow, she didn’t think those words would have the effect that they did, and she finds herself looking at him like a sunflower does to a sun.

“Wow,” she says, dazed, given to twisting her words up in nervousness, as it wells up inside her like a floodgate breaking. “Captain America swears, I didn’t think that would be true.”

He shrugs. “Captain America tries to be polite. Steve Rogers, on the other hand, has no problem swearing.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” Toni muses, amidst all of her half-formed thoughts. “So, uh, time travel, huh?”

Steve (she’s still coming to terms with the fact that she’s talking to _Steve fucking Rogers_ ) smiles at her. “Yeah, time travel.”

“And who made it a thing?” Toni asks, curiously, the blood rushing in her ears, as she faintly focuses on a screw on DUM-E’s strut instead of his handsome face.

“You.”

Toni jerks upward and almost hits her head on DUM-E, who whines in response. “Shit,” she hisses. “Don’t repeat that,” she warns her robot. “I won’t be the only robot mother that raises a hooligan, understood?”

DUM-E chooses to drape the weight of him over her back, almost sending her crumpling onto the floor, breathless, if her hands wouldn’t have stopped him. She peers at Steve again, the sweat prickling on the nape of her neck.

“Me, huh?” she says, voice strained.

“Yeah, you.”

“And how did I do that?” Toni asks, lightly, with no gradual abating of desperation.

Steve hesitates for an agonising moment that has her making a small, sharp noise.

“Or is that something that you can’t tell me because of time travel rules?” she tries. “It’s okay, I’ve seen _Back to the Future_.”

Steve laughs, a bright, hard sound that makes Toni flush and hate herself for it.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Does it have to do with the Avengers?” she asks, a little uncertain.

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Toni says, lamely. “Cool.” She bites her lip. “So, any particular reason why you’re here in, uh, 1988?”

“Testing out the device,” he explains. “You, uh, you like me to do routine testing of the device every now and then, just to make sure everything’s cool.”

“And this is one of them? Did you choose the date?” she asks, curiously.

“No, actually, you did.” Steve frowns. “I have no idea why.”

“Maybe this date is important?” Toni offers.

“Is it? I mean, I wouldn’t know,” Steve points out.

“It’s the date that this hunk of metal came to life,” Toni says, prodding DUM-E with a single finger.

“That’s definitely a monumental occasion,” he says, easily.

“So, it could be that or- _is that a wedding ring_?” she demands, eyes pinning on the gold band that she can see on his hand. “Are you married, Captain America?”

Steve chuckles, a soft and so fucking beautiful sound that it makes her heart flutter in her chest ( _oh, my God, Toni, he might be married, you are not a homewrecker_ ). “I am, yes.”

“And what’s she like?” she pushes.

Sue her, she’s read every single biography, every essay, every piece of non-fiction literature on the man, and she’d like to know.

“Or _he_?” Toni tries. “Do they have that in your time? Do they have same-sex marriage?” she asks, excitedly.

Steve’s lips twitch. “They do.”

Toni sighs. “I can marry a girl; that’s so cool.”

“Not exactly,” Steve mutters.

Toni narrows her eyes. “Why? Am I already married? Do you know who I’m married to? Is it a boy? What’s he like? Is he Indian? My mother may actually kill me if I don’t marry an Indian?”

“You are, yes, yes, he’s… well, he loves you very much, and no.”

“I don’t know if I should be disappointed or delighted that I didn’t marry an Indian,” she muses. “Who is he? Tell me about him.”

“Well…” Steve trails off.

He looks at her, flushes hard, the colour in his cheeks blotchy pink and high, and looks down at his hand, the hand with the wedding ring.

And for a moment, Toni’s lungs stop working.

“Oh, my God,” she says, breathlessly.

“Fuck,” Steve declares, wincing and shaking his head.

“You swore,” Toni accuses, resorting to some pithy remark.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Steve tells her, half-desperate.

“Are you sure?” Toni asks, dubiously. “Because, no offence, I know you’re my future husband and everything, which, weird, because you knew my dad and you were friends with him and you were in love with my godmother, which is doubly weird, but you suck at lying.”

“I know,” he says, dryly. “You’ve told me that many times.”

“Are we really married?” she asks, quietly, curling an arm around DUM-E for support.

He nudges against her shoulder for comfort, with a happy, sweet chirp.

Steve gives her a fond look, made of cotton candy and sunshine, his blue eyes a summer storm, and says, “Yes, Toni, we’re married.”

Toni clasps her eyes on one of DUM-E’s screws. “For how long?” she asks, gentle and precise.

Steve whistles. “Going on five years now.”

_Fuck._

“And… kids?” Toni tries.

Steve grins, fleetingly. “Two, a boy and a girl. Twins, actually.”

“Oh,” Toni says, lamely. “Are you sure?”

Steve lifts an eyebrow. “Am I sure that we have children? Yeah, last time I checked, we did.”

“And I…” she clears her throat and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m a good mum?”

There’s only silence, which prompts her to look over, with the restraint of pulling teeth from someone, and he’s standing there, eyeing her with such sorrow.

“Oh, Toni, of course you are,” he says, firmly.

Her heart pounds.

“Are you sure?” she demands.

“Of course, I am.”

Toni looks down at her lap. “I’m not… I’m not supposed to be a good mother. I don’t…” she bites her lip. “My dad isn’t a good dad, and Ty…”

She takes another deep breath, and when she closes her eyes, she still sees him, Ty, looming over her, face cut in such bitter, seething hatred, her lip split and bleeding, as he shouts at her, _are you fucking that ghetto trash roommate of yours, Annie? Is that it? Am I not enough for you anymore? God, why do you always have to be such a slut, such a fucking mess of a person? Can’t you just be fucking normal? After everything, after everything I have done for you and given up for you, do you have any idea how much I fucking love you? Do you think anyone’s going to love you like I do? You aren’t worth that love, Toni, you don’t deserve it, but I love you, don’t you get it? I love you, and you’re so fucked up. It’s in your fucking bones, your DNA, you’re so fucked up, but I still love you. What are you going to do without me? What are you without me? We’re meant to be together, don’t you understand? We’re meant to be, we’re meant to get married and have babies and grow old together and you just want to give all of that up? What the fuck is wrong with me? Maybe I made a mistake, maybe I was wrong, maybe I underestimated how fucking diseased you are, God knows you’d pass that shit on to any of your demon spawn-_

“Tiberius Stone is an evil fucking bastard who doesn’t deserve the air you’ve wasted on him, Toni,” Steve says, voice low and grim.

Toni startles and looks at him. “What?”

“Tiberius Stone,” Steve says, staring her down. “Anything he said to you was a lie. Anything he said to you was bullshit, because he knew, he fucking knew that you were better than him, Toni, that you would always be better than him. He was sad and insecure and unable to deal with his own fucking mediocrity, and so he tried to make you feel as low as he did. He was wrong. He was so wrong. You are good and kind and decent, one of the best people I have ever known. You are an amazing person, woman, wife, hero, mother.”

Toni looks away before he can see how over-bright her eyes are. “You have to say those things,” she huffs.

When she looks up, Steve’s eyebrow is tilted up. “Oh?”

She straightens her shoulders. “If you’re my husband, you have to say those things. Otherwise, you’d be a real shitty husband,” she points out.

Steve grins at her, revealing a line of pearly-white teeth. “I was saying these things long before we got married, even before we started dating.”

Toni’s arms around DUM-E tightens. “How _did_ we start dating?” she asks, curiously.

Much to her surprise, Steve turns blotchy pink, from hairline to collar, and he looks away.

“Okay, now I _need_ to know,” she says, determinedly.

“We, uh,” Steve’s ears turn red. “Oh, hell, we were at this gala, and well…” he trails off.

“We had sex, didn’t we?” Toni says, knowingly.

Steve grimaces. “How did you know?”

“Judging by your reaction, for one,” she says, dryly. “Two, it’s sort of my M.O.? Was it good?”

“Was what good?”

“The sex,” she says, slowly.

Steve closes his eyes, and the flush heightens, if it were even possible. “Oh, God, we shouldn’t be having this conversation,” he bemoans.

Toni shrugs. “Why not? We’re married, aren’t we? And sexuality is a healthy part of existence that humans engage in.”

“But you’re…” he trails off, gesturing wildly to her.

“What? Is it because I’m younger than your wife?” Toni guesses.

“You’re eighteen,” he says, half-hysterical.

“How old are you?” Toni demands.

“At least twice your age,” he confesses.

Toni narrows her eyes. “It is every thirty-six-year-old married man’s dream to do sexy things with an eighteen-year-old,” she declares, confidently. “This includes talking about their sex life.”

Steve turns puce and looks away.

“Unless…” she says, slowly. “That’s not the sexy thing you’d want to do? Makes sense, if she’s had two kids, things are probably sagging and there are stretch marks and maybe she hasn’t lost the pregnancy weight, and my nipples probably don’t look the same-”

Steve shakes his head, now angry. “No, no, you’re beautiful,” he says, hotly. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Don’t… don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Warmth knots in her belly. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “It’s just… I know you, _future-you_ , feels… self-conscious about those things and I try, I mean, I try to reassure you, and I hate that it doesn’t work, because I don’t _care_ , I don’t care about those things. You… Toni, you gave me a home, you gave me a family, you gave me children. The best day of my life was that day in the hospital when you held out our babies to me. You shouldn’t…” he lifts his chin, defiantly. “You are beautiful, if only for giving me those children, but you’re beautiful for a thousand more reasons beyond that too.”

Toni narrows her eyes. “We should have sex.”

“What?” Steve asks, voice high and thin.

“You don’t want to talk about our sex life, or our future sex life, or your current sex life and my future sex life, so future-current sex life?” She shakes her head. “Time travel language is confusing. Anyway, you don’t want to talk about our sex life, because you’d rather to do other sexy things with me? Now, I thought that you wanted to do other sexy things with me, like actually having sex with me, because you’re thirty-six and future-me has had two kids and so, her tits won’t be as perky, and her stomach won’t be as flat and unmarked-”

“-and I said that I didn’t care about that,” Steve says, sternly.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves off. “You’re a great guy, a total keeper, an example for men everywhere; so, you either want to have sex with me because you’re married to future-me and you’re missing the tight little body that I used to have-”

“Not true,” Steve shakes his head.

“-or, you’d just like the change of pace.”

“Toni,” Steve smiles, all kind and gentle. “I love my wife a lot, I love that she gave me children, two of them as well, and I like having sex with her. I have no complaints.”

“You _like_ having sex with her?” Toni’s eyes gleam.

Steve groans. “Really should’ve second-guessed that before saying it.”

“Yes, you should have,” she says, amused. “Now, you _like_ having sex with her?”

“I _love_ having sex with her,” Steve corrects, grimacing.

“What do you _love_ about having sex with her?” Toni demands, like a dog with a bone.

Steve’s ears turn red, along with his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, a hectic colour resembling puce. “I really can’t answer that,” he says, awkwardly.

“But now I _have_ to know,” Toni says, simply.

“Toni,” Steve says, like she’s being unreasonable.

God, how many times has she heard that tone before? She should find it scathing, chafing, that her future husband would sound so similar to her father in this thing, but it’s almost comforting.

She probably needs therapy to get over her daddy issues.

“How long have we been married?” she pushes.

Steve smiles, then, easy, like a slow honey drip, and his lovely eyes fall on her. He’s seeing her, but not really seeing her, she thinks.

He’s seeing his wife.

 _He loves her_ , she realises, with a lurch of familiarity. _He loves her like Ty never loved me. I want that, I want him to look at me like that._

It’s not that she loves him, this stranger, Captain America alive and breathing and smiling, but she wants to love him, she wants to become the woman that loves him and has him.

“More than a decade,” he replies, with a dorky smile.

“Then, unless I’ve had a total personality transplant in the… what, the decade that’s to come, you should know I’m not going to let this go,” she says, simply.

Steve chuckles. “I do know.”

“So, you’re probably better off telling me what I want to know,” she tells him.

Steve opens his mouth.

“Wait,” she cuts him off.

His face tilts in confusion.

Toni turns to DUM-E, bouncing on the bed. “Go away,” she says.

DUM-E protests.

“Nuh-uh, this is not a conversation for babies. You are too young, go away.”

DUM-E chirps at her.

“Out!”

Finally, DUM-E pouts and rolls away into the next room, without first giving her one of hell of a baleful beep, conveying his displeasure.

She jumps off the bed and rushes to close the door, leaning back against it.

“Are you sure I’m not a shitty mother?” she asks, suspiciously.

“Of course, you’re not a shitty mother,” Steve says, full of scorn.

“Because I just sent my baby out of the room because I want to have sex with you and I don’t want to traumatise him,” she points out.

“Toni,” Steve grins at her, shamelessly. “We have two children. You don’t think we do our fair share of manipulation to have some time alone together?”

“Some time alone… as in to have sex?” Toni clarifies.

Steve sighs. “You’re really harping on this topic, aren’t you?”

Toni shrugs. “I’m eighteen, and no offence, but you’re sort of my dream husband, in a creepy, Freudian, daddy issues way. I think about sex a lot. And between you and me, for a while there, when I was discovering masturbation and all of its great benefits, I thought about you and sex a _lot_.”

Steve flushes. “Yeah, you, uh, you told me that.”

“You should be flattered,” she says, simply. “You’re hot, I’m hot, it makes sense. Now, you didn’t answer my question; what do you love about having sex with Future Me?”

Steve covers his face with a hand, but there’s a smile playing along his mouth. “I feel like this conversation is seriously inappropriate.”

Toni clucks her tongue, padding over to him. He notices her, he can’t help it, eyes latching onto her throat and the swell of her breasts in her tank top, the long, lean line of her legs in those short shorts. She drapes her arms around his shoulders, hand curling around the nape of his neck.

“Steve,” she says, gently. “It’s okay.” She bites her lip. “If you want, if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop. I don’t think you want me too, though.”

Steve looks down at her, blue eyes like a summer storm. “I love my wife,” he tells her, voice firm. “I love her like I love nothing else in this world. She makes me brave.”

Toni finds herself smiling, even if the dread sinks low in her belly.

_I want someone to love me like that._

“But we have a rule,” he explains.

Toni frowns. “A rule?”

Steve makes a noise at the back of his throat, a half-chuckling sound. “Yeah, a rule, to do with time travel. Basically, it’s not cheating if it’s a past or future version of ourselves, and everyone is consenting.”

“If you’d shown up two months ago, it would’ve been cheating,” she muses. “And I would’ve still been in a hospital bed.”

Steve’s jaw tightens. “Yeah, I know all about that. I’m… conflicted.”

Toni frowns. “Conflicted?”

“Yeah, I’m glad Stone isn’t anywhere here, because if he was, if I’d seen you like that, I might have killed him,” Steve says, simply. “And at the same time, I wish I had been here, to spare you that.”

Toni feels that sliver of warmth grow, and she pats him on the cheek. “You’re sweet. So, it’s not cheating, because I’m a past version of your wife, and that means, we can have sex?”

Steve nods, his ears red. “As long as we’re both consenting.”

Toni drags her eyes over his lean, hard body in that Captain America costume. “I am most certainly consenting. Are you?”

“Toni, I am very rarely not consenting when it comes to having sex with you,” he sighs.

“Okay, good,” she says, delighted, and throws her arms around him, kissing him hard and reckless.

Steve hesitates just for a moment, like he’s unsure of what to do, what to touch, how to hold, and then, his arms wrap around her, tight and uncompromising, holding her against his lean, hard body, like this is where she’s meant to be.

He lifts her up, like she’s made of cotton candy, so she can wrap her legs around his waist, her nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, her mouth never leaving his.

He carries her over to the bed, lies her down, crawls on top of her, covering her body with his own.

He threads his fingers through her unbound hair, dark like black stone and soft. His mouth leaves hers, then, moves down to her jaw, nipping at the skin, and then her throat, where her pulse throbs fast and wild, mouthing there. She clutches at his golden hair, and he puts his mouth on her like he knows exactly what to do, how to make her toes curl, how make her scream and plead and pant, the skill born of years spent with someone, spent just like this.

His mouth goes to her collarbone, sharp like bird bones, under her dark skin, running his tongue over the dip.

She tries to reciprocate, finds the buckles of his uniform to strip him of it, but he pushes her hands away.

“It’s okay, honey, this is about you,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

Her nipples are hard, tight underneath her thin cotton top, and she feels herself get slick by the look in his eyes, that obscene look, like he knows what she looks like without her clothes on, like he knows what she looks like when she’s skewered on his cock, like he knows what she sounds like when she’s begging for him, sobbing his name, coming, clenching, throbbing around his cock.

“Wait,” she gasps, the sensation like flooding water inside her.

He pulls away and sits back on his heels, almost immediately. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt, honey?” he asks, worriedly.

“No, I’m fine, I just…” she flushes like a schoolgirl, like she hasn’t had sex half a hundred times. “I just had a request?”

Steve’s eyes gleam, and his lips quirk up at the edges. “Oh?” he teases. “As in… like handcuffs, or something?”

Toni bites her lip. “More like a fantasy?” she offers.

Steve grins. “I doubt there’s many we haven’t done already,” he says, amused.

Toni pauses. “Really?” she says, intrigued.

Steve shrugs. “Teacher and schoolgirl, doctor and patient, landlord and tenant, maid and boss, strangers meeting in a bar, boss and secretary, we’ve had sex in public, you’ve pegged me, we’ve tied each other up-”

“Oh, dear Lord,” she says, blushing hard.

“You know, I never thought I’d see you like this,” Steve comments, watching her.

“Like what?” Toni frowns.

“Not as… confident as you are in the future.”

Toni bites her lip. “I’ve… only had sex with one boy,” she confesses. “That was Ty. I’ve had sex with girls, I don’t know if she told you this, but Ty used to ask if we could have people join us and…” she trails off.

“I know,” Steve says, voice taut. “I’ve heard. You’ve told me in glaring detail.”

“And you’re jealous?” Toni asks, brow drawing down.

“No, I’m not,” he says, confidently. “We’ve been married for years, I have nothing to be jealous about. You love me, I love you, and we have two beautiful children that I love to pieces as well. I have no reason to be jealous, Toni. If I belong to you, with everything that is in me, you belong to me.”

She likes that, belonging to him, if it means that he belongs to her as well.

“No, I’m not jealous. I am angry, though, because Tiberius Stone isn’t worth anything in this universe, and you had to put up with him for years. I wasn’t there, and you had to put up with him for years.”

“I like girls,” she protests. “I like girls too. I like boys and girls.”

“I know,” Steve replies easily.

“Ty didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do,” she says, her voice low.

Steve offers her a half-smile. “Honey, I know, but I also know Tiberius Stone and the ways he can fuck with your head.”

“You know Ty?” she asks, in a small voice.

“I do,” Steve agrees. “And I have almost bashed his skull in.”

The breath leaves Toni’s lungs in one great swoop. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I know you like boys and girls. If we were different persons, maybe we would have asked someone to join us in bed, but I am jealous, and so are you. I can’t bear it if someone else touched you, and I know you feel the same way about me.”

“I am the jealous type,” she admits, quietly. “But Ty…”

Ty had both resented and revelled in her jealousy, liked that she scowled when a boy or a girl stared to long, liked that her skin crawled when he asked if someone could join them, and hated when her possessiveness drew him back, chained him to her side, in his words, not hers.

“Forget about Ty,” he soothes.

“That is my new motto.” Toni smiles weakly. “But yeah, I’m not that experienced.”

Steve shrugs. “Neither am I.”

“Your account of your busy sex life with a future version of me says differently,” she says, lifting an eyebrow.

Steve laughs. “Toni, I was a virgin when we met. You are the only woman I have ever been with.”

“Oh,” Toni says, lamely. She pauses. “I like that; is that bad?”

“No,” Steve says, amused. “Not at all. So, fantasy?”

Toni bites her lip. “Well, it’s a fantasy that I’ve had for a while,” she confesses. “Basically, Captain America saves me from some evil villain, and I am very, very grateful. I would like to show my appreciation.”

Steve laughs, a hard, bright sound that makes her heart swell in her chest.

She reaches up, fists a hand in Steve’s uniform. “Will you let me show you my appreciation, Captain America?” she asks, slyly.

Steve stares down at her and brushes a thumb over her smooth cheek. “Miss Stark, are you absolutely sure?” he asks, formally, voice firm. “I would never do anything you wouldn’t want me to.”

Toni lets her lashes go low, long and thick and dark over her eyes, tightening her arms around him. “Thank you for saving me, Captain America,” she says, breathlessly.

Steve’s hands settle on her hips. “Are your attackers still here, Miss Stark?” he asks, carefully. “I want to know what I should be watching out for.”

Toni shakes her head. “No, they left me in this room, all alone and scared. I think they were going to hurt me when they came back, though. That’s what they said. They were laughing, and I was dressed…” she looks down at her thin tank and shorts. “… like this, I was dressed like this so… you can imagine,” she finishes, awkwardly, flushing even though it’s a game.

Growing up the way she did had taught her how valuable it is to be able to blush on command – men like her more, treat her better when they think she’s modest.

Steve’s jaw tightens; even if it’s a game, he doesn’t like that, any parallel universe where she might be hurt, where she might be alone and scared and he, blessed hero and husband and father of her future children that he is, can’t do anything about it.

“I’m just glad you’re safe now,” he sighs, instead, the anger clearing from his face. “I’ve got you now, Miss Stark; no one’s going to hurt you anymore.”

There’s something melancholic to his look, and the period between this moment and the moment where she meets him swells between them, the proverbial elephant in the room.

“Please,” she says, shyly. “Call me Toni, I mean, you saved me… what else would you call me?”

Steve grins. “Toni, then,” he agrees, rubbing a hand over his golden hair.

She runs her fingers through it, as if in a daze, and he watches in surprise.

“Sorry,” she says, immediately. “It’s just…” she takes a slow, steadying breath. She straightens her shoulders. “You have very nice hair; it’s all golden and fluffy, like a Labrador.”

Steve chuckles. “You have very nice hair too,” he says, returning the compliment.

Toni snorts. “No, I don’t,” she replies, easily.

She runs a hand through her hair, fingers catching on knots. She’d washed it last night and let it dry, so it was all curly, ringlet curls, like she’d had it professionally done, badly professionally done, but professionally done nonetheless. But she knows that when she takes a brush or a comb to it, it’ll turn frizzy and dishevelled, and she’ll be forced to smooth oil over it, to keep it in a semblance of order.

“You do,” Steve pushes. “Of course, you do.”

“It’s frizzy-”

“It’s you,” Steve says, firmly. “It’s wild, it’s beautiful, it’s _you_.”

“But-”

“We have another rule,” Steve cuts in. “You don’t get to talk badly about my wife.”

Toni huffs. “I’m your wife,” she remembers. “Albeit a younger version.”

Steve leans in so she can see the white of his teeth flashing against his pink, healthy skin.

“Exactly,” he murmurs, low and soft.

Heat curls in her belly, something dark and twisted and shameful.

“I shouldn’t have been staring,” she admits, hushed. “You’re just so handsome. It’s not… proper, I know. I shouldn’t have been so… rude of me.”

“Nothing you do could be rude,” Steve says, passionately.

Toni flushes and tosses her hair.

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re Captain America,” she says, sweetly. “You’re a hero. I shouldn’t be objectifying you like a piece of meat. I should just be grateful that you came for me in the first place.”

Steve shakes his head. “You’re wrong. I would always come for you, Toni,” he says, his eyes blue and wide and hungry. “I would…” he sighs. “God, Toni, don’t you know what you mean to me?”

Toni bites her lip, grim uncertainty creeping upon her.

“You don’t ever have to be grateful for me coming for you. Of course, I came. I would always come. And you don’t have to be embarrassed about looking,” he says, lowly. “I was looking to. I haven’t been able to stop looking at you since I came inside.”

“Oh?” she asks, looking up at him through her eyelashes, long and thick and dark.

Steve’s eyes run over her, the bare curve of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts, heavy and full over her chest, her lithe waist tapering in, the slope of her hip, and her long, smooth legs.

Her skin prickles at the hot look in his eyes.

She gets wet easily, something throbbing insistently between her legs.

She leans back against the bed, her nipples tight against the thin cotton of her tank, her lip curving a little at the way his eyes drag down, centring on them. She makes a small noise of want at the obscene look in his eyes, the way he can’t take his eyes off her tits.

 _Captain America is a tits man, who knew_? she thinks, almost in awe.

She stretches out her legs, curving them at the knee, and pulls her hair over her shoulder, taking on a shy countenance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asks, slipping so easily into the role, hand curving around her ankle, that big, deft, warm hand of his, his milk-pale colouring so bright against her much darker tone. “Did your kidnappers… did they say what they wanted from you?”

Toni’s blush flares up hot on cue, and she looks away, abashed and humiliated, a hurt little noise escaping her.

She’s always kept the virgin ingenue personality tucked away in her pocket, never knowing when she might have need for it.

Clearly, it has a lot of use in this scenario.

“Toni?” Steve pushes, his voice rumbling like that of a lion, squeezing her ankle.

“They wanted a ransom,” she huffs. “Like they always do. But they kept… they kept saying things about me?”

“Things?” Steve lifts an eyebrow.

Toni’s blush darkens. “About my face, they said I was pretty. And they went… lower,” she admits, awkwardly. “They said things about my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, my legs, my… my cunt,” she says, shyly, eyes half-lidded and pleased. “They said, they said I had nice breasts, they called them _tits_ and said they’d like to fuck them-”

A muscle in Steve’s jaw jumps.

“They talked about my-my cunt, wondered if I shaved, if it was pink and wet, how quickly I’d come if they put their fingers and their tongue and their cock inside me,” she murmurs.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve clucks his tongue, and the hand on her ankle travels upwards, over the inside of her calf, before his fingers curl around her knee. “Those bastards, they shouldn’t have said those things. They shouldn’t have touched you, talked about you like that.” He twines strands of her hair around his fingers. “You deserve better than those monsters treating you like a piece of meat. You’re so…” he flushes, ducking his head. “You’re so beautiful, Toni. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

“Am I?” she asks, honestly, slipping out of the character, fidgeting slightly on the bed.

Steve softens, his eyes all the shades of blue in the world. “You are, Toni, you’re… you’re everything in this world,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to the curve of her cheekbone.

The blood is hot in her face, but she leans into the kiss.

“I’m just glad you come for me,” she says, sweetly, wringing her hands together. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come, if they’d come back and you weren’t there.”

She lets her voice grow high and thin, hysterical with fright.

Steve grips her jaw, smoothing a thumb over the dip there. “I will always come for you,” he repeats, sure and strong, ever the stalwart hero. “There’s nothing in this world, in this universe that could keep me from you.”

It should sound sappy, over the top, _too fucking much_ , him saying things like that.

Instead, for some reason, she has the sudden urge to spread her legs and bare her throat, like she’s an animal.

She stares up at him through the sweep of her long, dark eyelashes.

“I really do appreciate you coming for me,” she says, quietly, fisting a hand in his uniform, just above that silver star. “I’d like to show my gratitude, if you don’t mind?”

Steve’s brow furrows down at her. “I’m sorry?”

Toni bites her lip and looks at him, meaningfully, curling a hand around the nape of his neck.

“Oh,” Steve exclaims. “ _Oh._ ”

The blush on his milk-pale skin is endearing, as it flares hot and hard.

“You don’t have to,” he says, hurriedly. “I’m not… I’m not expecting it or anything, I wouldn’t…” he sighs. “Toni, I’d still save you, I’d still get you out of here, away from them, even if you didn’t, you didn’t _want_ -”

“But I want,” she says, breathlessly, shifting forward, a little restless, rubbing her thighs together. “I _want_ , Captain. I… I’ve had…” she takes a deep breath. “I’ve had _thoughts_ ,” she says, purposefully. “I’ve had these… dreams, I guess,” she confesses. “I saw… I used to have the comics, you see, and the posters, and my dad, he told me all these stories, and I would go to bed, and I would have these _dreams_ , you know, and you were there, in your uniform, looking just like you do now and well,” her face floods with colour.

“Well?” Steve pushes.

“You had me,” she says, shyly. “You just… you beared me to the ground and you crawled on top of me, and you just _had_ me.”

Steve’s hand circles her jaw, thumb smoothing over her lip; her mouth parts, and she takes her thumb inside, nipping at his thumb.

His pupils bloom, black and warm.

“So, yeah,” she clears her throat. “When I say that I’d like to show my gratitude, I think you now understand what I mean?”

“And you’re sure?” Steve asks, worriedly. “You’re absolutely sure you want this, and for the right reasons? Don’t do this, don’t offer this, because you think I won’t save you without you making yourself… _available_ to me, or because you feel the need to repay me, because you don’t, _you don’t_.”

Toni stretches herself out across the bed, her dark hair spilling across the pillow.

“Oh, I want this, Captain Rogers, I want this so much,” she gushes, curling a hand around the nape of his neck.

Steve groans, the sound punching out of him, his hands shake, and then, something snaps in him, he surges on top of her, covering her body with hers. He kisses her like he’s starving, like he hasn’t had a drink for years, and he can taste her insides like this, her heart, her mind, everything that she is at the pith of her, and she’s winding her thin fingers into that golden hair, as she’d always dreamed of.

“Captain, Captain Rogers,” she whispers, arching herself against him, so that she can rub her nipples against his chest.

“You…” Steve’s hand drag drags down to her hip and squeezes. “You are so fucking… you are beautiful, you know that? So fucking beautiful.”

Toni giggles, a high, pealing sound within the four walls of her dorm room, and she’s surprised that the noise would even escape her, but somehow, surprisingly, she’s safe with him, safe within these four walls.

“You’re very sweet to say that,” she says, lightly, outlining the star on his uniform with her finger. “Now, kiss me again.”

He kisses her again, just like she asks, and she parts underneath him eagerly. Her feet are planted on either side of him, so that his hips are flush with her thighs, and she can feel his erection, rubbing up against the crease of her pelvic bone.

She shifts restlessly against him, and his broad, deft hand spans the width of her ribs, fingers slipping underneath her thin tank, fingers stroking back and forth, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

His mouth is rough against hers, moving against it with a sort of skill that she hadn’t expected from him. His tongue licks into her soft, shapely mouth, slow and lazy, and her arms are draped around his shoulders.

He pulls away, and she whines, reaching for him. He chuckles, his mouth red and swollen and damp, and kisses her swiftly once more, as if it’s compensation.

“I hadn’t,” she says, breathlessly. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Steve lifts an eyebrow. “Oh?” he says, dryly.

Toni shrugs, terribly aware of the swell of her breasts, as she breathes, her nipples tight against the fabric, and how wet she is between her legs.

“You’re very good at that,” she comments.

Steve chuckles, loud and full. “I’ve had some practice,” he says, pointedly.

“I don’t know why I thought this,” Toni begins. “but I always thought you were a virgin.”

“I was,” Steve says, without a shred of embarrassment. “Until I met you.”

Toni lifts herself up. “What?” she demands.

“I was a virgin. I had kissed, like, maybe a handful of women in my time, but nothing more. And then, I met you,” he explains, a little shy.

“And you lost your virginity to _me_ ,” she says, delighted.

Steve sighs, like he’s wishing that he’d never said that to her in the first place. “Yes, I did.”

“That’s amazing,” she sighs and lets herself slip back down to the bed. “I must have been a great teacher.”

“You were,” Steve says, with a grin full of teeth.

He kisses her again, threading his big, deft hand through her hair, and his kiss is almost desperate. His hand moves down, spanning the width of her throat, the heel of her palm pressing up against her breastbone, almost shifting the material of her tank. It moves to the side, fingers sliding underneath the strap.

He pulls back. “You’re sure you want this?” he asks, lowly.

Toni bites her lip and arches up, letting her legs spread, meaningfully. “I want this,” she replies, the tone of her voice lascivious.

“Have you done this before?” Steve asks, curiously. “I hate to ask, but I want to know before I go any further.”

She almost sends him a baleful look, and then, she remembers her role, so she just makes an obnoxious, offended noise at the back of her throat, swelling up like an apoplectic frog.

“I am not a slut, Captain Rogers,” she says, flustered, furious, letting her cheeks turn rosy. “I wouldn’t… I’m not… I don’t just let boys take off my clothes and have me whenever they like.”

Steve leans in. “Even if you had been with other boys, Toni, I wouldn’t hold it against you,” he points out. “It’s your body, honey, and your body alone. It’s not even mine. I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”

Toni wraps a hand around the nape of his neck. “You could never hurt me,” she says, firmly, pretending to flush. “But I’ve never… I’ve never done this before. Just…” she pulls him down so he can cover her with his bulk. “Just touch me, don’t stop touching me.”

“I won’t, Toni,” Steve promises. “I won’t.”

He takes his uniform off first, hands going for the buckles on his uniform. The top half goes first, leaving him bare from the waist up – Toni is almost sad to see the star go away – and then, he goes for the belt cinched around his waist. The pants slip down to his ankles, and he kicks them away, along with his boots, and Toni looks her fill.

And god, what a fill it is.

He is just miles and miles of perfect, glorious skin, the perfect specimen of male humanity, with all those broad shoulders, big arms, waist tapering in, leading to long, muscled legs. This coupled with the most handsome face that Toni has ever laid eyes on, with all that golden hair on top of his head and scruff covering his jaw, and oh, my, she’s dripping.

Toni makes a soft little nose, shifting restlessly atop her sheets, a noise which draws Steve’s eyes, which go darker, if it were even possible, until they’re just pinpricks of black.

“Oh, honey,” he clucks his tongue, hand falling to his cock and pulling it, as it firms up in his hand, the head red and weeping pre-come. “Do you like the way I look?”

Toni bites her lip. “I like it,” she says, breathlessly, spreading her legs. “I like it a lot.”

“Take off your clothes, Toni,” Steve demands, his voice like grinding stone.

The tone of voice, all that command and determination, goes right to Toni’s cunt. She finds the straps of her tank and pulls it down, slowly. The swell of her breasts grow deeper and her tits pop out, revealing an impressive curve and dark brown nipples, already taut and tight.

Steve groans, corkscrewing up on his cock.

She takes off her tank top, leaving her naked from the waist up, and tosses her hair. She twists a nipple, biting her lip at the sharp edge of pain that the touch provides, her eyes going half-lidded.

His eyes track her fingers, as they slide down her flat, bare belly and hook in her cotton shorts, rolling it down, inch by inch, revealing the thatch of dark hair between her thighs and her gleaming thighs, until she’s able to it to pull the shorts off her ankle and off the bed.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” Steve growls.

Toni grins, shamelessly. “I am not,” she agrees and spreads her legs.

Steve groans when he sees the length of her, her soft breasts, her lithe body, flushed and panting and writhing on the bed, unable to keep the lust off her face, but his eyes centre in on her spread thighs, splayed open and loose, and what’s between them, her cunt as pink as her mouth, like crumpled silk and wet.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he hums, eyes dilated.

Toni colours. “Thank you,” she says, her eyes opening and fluttering shut. “Use me, Captain America. Use me, fuck me, leave me all sloppy with your come-”

Steve grunts and crawls on top of her, settling between her thighs, brushing her hair away from her face. “You want that, you want me to fuck you, you want me to fill you up, cover you in my come, fuck you full?” he demands, grinding his cock where her cunt is all empty and grasping.

It wrings a high, desperate sound from her throat, which turns into a cry, when his head lowers and his teeth catches her nipple, tugging. She slides a hand into his hair, knotting, and he runs his tongue over the peak, until she’s raising her hips, getting his cock right there, against her clit.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “ _My_ girl.”

“Your girl,” Toni gasps. “ _Yours_.” She arches her back when he moves to the other nipple. “Steve, please, _please_ , don’t tease, don’t tease me. Fuck me, get your cock inside me, I want it, _I want it_ , I want it like I can’t _breathe_ -”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Steve soothes, infinitely kind. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you nice and good, and everything will be okay in the world, won’t it?”

Toni just lifts an eyebrow, a little judgy.

Steve grins. “Too much?” he says, self-deprecatingly.

Toni shrugs. “A little, but we’re being a little too liberal with porn talk anyway. It was bound to happen. Keep going,” she urges.

She would have prodded him with her foot, but that would’ve requiring some prostrating on her part, and there’s no reason to bring God into this, while she’s lying naked and splayed open for a white boy.

Steve fists his cock, flushing and pointing up towards his belly. “You look wet,” he comments.

Toni hides her smile under a shy veneer and slides her fingers between her legs, swiping over her hard little clit and shuddering.

“I am,” she says, swallowing thickly.

“Is that because of me, Toni?” Steve asks, curiously.

Toni hums in agreement, letting her dark hair hang around her face. “Are you going to fuck me now, Steve?” she asks, innocently.

“If that’s still what you want?” Steve says, pointedly.

Toni bites back the urge to roll her eyes and nods, fervently. “Yes, please, Captain Rogers,” she says, high and thin. “Please, I want you inside of me, it’s all I can think about.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, crawling towards her, the look in his eyes obscene and relentless. “I’m here, I’ll give you everything you want.”

Toni looks at him through her dark, thick lashes. “Do you promise?”

Steve curls a hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her in close so he can kiss her, slow and steady. His other arm wraps around her waist and lifts her into his lap, as if she weighs of cotton candy, and she throws her arms over his shoulders, kissing him hard until she can lick into his mouth.

His hand twists in her hair, tight against her scalp, and she whines, breathlessly, her heart pounding in her ribcage, and he leans back, so he can reach between their bodies and grope at her tits, squeezing, palming purposefully over the heavy curve, swiping over her nipple, until she’s left aching and restless, shifting over his lap.

She can feel his cock pressed up against the crease of her thigh, rubbing streaks of pre-come against her skin, and she has the sudden urge to slide fingers inside herself, if it would only give her relief.

“Do you like that?” he murmurs against her mouth, nudging his nose against hers. “Do you like it when I play with your tits?”

Toni finds herself turning red for real. “Captain America says _tits_ ,” she giggles.

Steve groans. “You know, I was in the army,” he says, pointedly, leaning back. “I swore, I swore a _lot_. I probably know more swear words than you do.”

Toni raises an eyebrow. “No, you don’t,” she says, flatly.

Steve sighs. “Okay, fine, I don’t,” he grumbles. “But I do swear, I do say things like _tits_ and _cunt_ and _pussy_ and _cock_ -”

“-and I get it, I get it, you have a very expansive sexual vocabulary,” Toni teases.

Whatever she might have said disappears, falls off her tongue when he slides his long fingers up inside her, making her gasp against the stretch, the pressure. She whines low in her throat and lets her head drop onto his shoulder, mouth a slack, wet smear, as he pushes in and out, in and out, driving her crazy until her toes are curling.

“Good, sweetheart?” he murmurs against her hair, nose nudging against her temple.

“Good,” she mumbles, blinking lazy as a cat against his throat, where his pulse beats.

It’s a squelch, the wet, pulling sound that his fingers make inside her, which only heightens, grows louder, as she starts dripping.

She’s always been ashamed that she gets so wet so easily, so much, but Steve seems super into it, is watching her with the sort of single-mindedness that tells her, tells her better than anything that Future Her is so loved, so loved by this man, that she could do anything, be anything, and he would still love her.

God, that must be great, that must be the best drug.

She kisses him, hard and reckless. “I want you inside of me,” she breathes.

Steve’s fingers inside her slow. “Are you sure?” he asks, carefully.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything else in my life,” she says to him.

“We can still stop, you know,” Steve tells her, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “If you’re having second thoughts. I… I time-travelled into your room, a dead man from the 1940s, and told you that you and I would get married in the future.”

“And I jumped you; how desperate am I?” she asks, lip curling up self-deprecatingly.

Steve snorts. “I’m sorry, you think if you at-” he winces. “if you at whatever age I know you as in my present showed up in my dingy little apartment when I was eighteen, I _wouldn’t_ have taken you up on that offer?” he asks, incredulously.

Toni’s remarkably flustered. “You would have?” she clarifies, shyly.

Steve laughs. “You are easily the most beautiful woman I have ever known, both like this at eighteen, and the future version of you that I am married to. Right now, you’re a… well, in your words, you’re a hot, young coed, and your present version, is a well,” he blushes. “She says you’re a total MILF.”

Toni cocks her head. “MILF?” she asks, curiously.

Steve groans. “Please don’t make me say it.”

Toni leans forward, eagerly. “Now, I absolutely need to make you say it.”

Steve’s shoulders slump. “Mother I’d Like to Fuck.”

For a brief moment, Toni doesn’t know what to do or say.

And then, she bursts out laughing, tilting her head back.

“I _love_ that!” she crows.

“Please don’t,” he says, quietly. “I see enough morons online talking about how much and in what ways they’d like to… to _fuck_ my wife, and well, there are now a lot of people in this world I’d like to punch, starting with the guy who described in great detail how he’d like to give you, older you, a pearl necklace.”

“A pearl necklace?” Toni asks.

Steve closes his eyes. “Please don’t make me explain,” he begs.

“Now, you have to,” she says, simply.

“It’s when, oh, jeez,” Steve turns a healthy, blushing pink. “Okay, it’s when a fella…” he swallows thickly. “…comes on a girl’s neck and chest.”

Toni closes her eyes, picturing it, with Steve, with Steve looming over her, his cock in his hand, and her peering up at him, just like that, as he comes, spilling out in streaks of white all over her tits and throat.

It pulls a soft, desperate noise out of her, and she’s shifting restlessly in his lap.

“What?” he says, surprised. And then, realisation dawns. “You like that idea, but with me,” he guesses.

Toni nods, fervently, kissing him hard, sliding her tongue in his mouth. “I like that idea, I like it. Okay, okay, enough with the prose and conversation, get your cock inside me now.”

Steve holds her hips hard enough to bruise (God, she hopes he leaves bruises; she wants to remember this next morning, she wants to know it wasn’t a dream; God, she hopes it’s not a dream).

She reaches between them, fingers curling around his cock and wringing her hand up to the purple head that weeps onto her thighs.

“Your cock is so pretty,” she rasps.

Steve gasps and thrusts into her hand. She heaves onto her knees and bears down on him, lets his cock stretch her and fill her, until she can seat herself in his lap, and feel the golden curling pubic hair at the juncture between his legs scratching up against her thighs.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers.

“I won’t,” he murmurs. “I won’t.”

He pushes her down onto the bed, looming on top of her, pinning her arms down to the mattress, and thrusts inside her, his pace wild. He kisses her, and his mouth moves down to her throat, tasting the salt of the sweat that dusts there, fucking right into her. Toni jolts with every thrust, crying out, raking her nails down his back.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants against her neck. “I never want, _fuck_ , I never want to let you go, honey, never want to stop fucking you.”

_But you will, you’ll go home to your pretty wife, the wife you love very much, your babies, and leave me here, leave me alone, and I just have to wait._

She closes her eyes.

_Stop thinking about that, stay with him, in this moment, remember this, remember all of this._

“Do I, Steve?” she asks, grappling for his shoulders. “Do I feel so good?”

Steve grunts, and the next thrust is almost aimless. “You feel like fucking heaven; I’d spend the rest of my life inside your pretty little pussy, if I could.”

That makes her wetter, if it were even possible, and she plants her mouth on him.

“Do you like that? Do you like it when I talk to you like that?” Steve asks, bottoming out and fisting his cock. “You like it when I talk about your pretty little pussy?”

Toni rubs her thighs together and prays she isn’t panting like a dog for a treat.

“I do, I like it, I love it,” Toni moans, grappling for his shoulders, canting her hips up.

Steve groans, leaning down. He circles a hand around her thigh, thumb stroking over the soft, dark skin over the crease between her thigh and cunt, stretching it out and hooking it over his shoulder, so he can spread her open for his use.

He snaps his hips forward, dragging the air out of her lungs and making her nails claw at the sheets below, leaving jagged tears in the thin cotton.

“Almost there, keep going,” she pants, leaning into where his cock splits her open, impaling her there. “Don’t stop, _don’t stop_.”

She squirms unthinkingly on his cock, and Steve curses under his breath, shifting his hip.

“I’m not wearing a condom,” Steve grunts, mouthing at where her pulse throbs fast and wild.

“I’ve got an implant,” Toni tells him, making a soft, desperate noise, when his next thrust makes her throb and clench around him. “Come inside me, it’ll be fine.”

“Toni, Toni,” he moans against her throat. “Are you sure, honey? Are you sure? I could be-”

“I’m clean,” she gasps. “I’m clean, I wouldn’t have let you touch me if I wasn’t, and… I’ve read the file on you, okay. You can catch anything or transmit anything. It’s fine, we’re fine, _come inside me_.”

“You’re sure?” Steve checks in one last time.

Toni kisses him, teeth clashing together and her tongue winding inside his mouth. “I’m sure, come inside me,” she begs. “No, wait!” she cries, high-pitched and thin, planting her hands against his shoulders to almost shove him away.

“What is it?” Steve asks, slowing his thrusts immediately, face turning concerned. “Are you okay? Shit, did I hurt you?” he asks, brushing a hand over her face, like he can detect any injury he might have caused her.

“No, no, you didn’t,” she says, whining low in her throat. “I want you to… I want you to come _on_ me, mark me up.”

“Oh, hell,” Steve groans, tipping his head back. “Fuck, Toni, that’s so fucking filthy.”

She wriggles about, drenching his thighs in her slick. “I want it, I want your come, Steve,” she says, breathy and sweet.

“But you haven’t come yet,” he insists, his voice catching.

“Don’t worry about that,” she urges. “Just come on my pussy.”

Steve grunts and pulls out of her, leaving her open and throbbing, clenching around nothing. She almost thrusts her hips back, wanting to get him inside her again, but she stifles the urge, smoothing her hands down the insides of her thighs, cupping her sex in one hand, splaying out her fingers, so that pink, damp flesh and her clit peek out from underneath.

He wraps his hand around her cock and starts fisting, dragging his hand up and down, his hand growing wet from the pre-come that weeps liberally from the head. She plants her feet down on the mattress and keeps her legs spread, so that he can see her cunt, empty and grasping.

“Come on, Steve,” she moans. “Come on me, come on me, _come on me_.”

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Steve manages a sound halfway between a pant and a groan, his hips stuttering, his hand jerking over his cock, and then he’s coming all over her cunt, her thighs, shining across her dark skin.

He sees her like that, her cunt sloppy with his come and her slick, her hard little clit, her legs splayed open and loose, and the way her cunt flutters open, as if demanding his cock once more, and his cock gives her halfway painful-expectant twitch against his stomach, straining.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

He grabs her by the thighs, lifts her up onto his lap, and slides her fingers up inside her, spooning come and slick and thrusting it inside him. She yelps and buries her face in her sheets, as he fucks her with his fingers.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the way she parts for his fingers like a ripe peach. “That’s my beautiful girl. Just like _that_.”

“Steve,” she gasps and moans, grinding down on her teeth. “Oh, Steve.”

His hand tightens around her hip. “It’s okay, honey, I’ve got you, I’ll get you there. I’ll make you come. I won’t leave you hangin’.”

His voice loses that cultured accent and slips into an easy, unthinking Brooklyn drawl that leaves her sopping.

“Is that what you want, doll baby?” he asks, voice lowering to a growl. “You like my fingers in you?”

His thumb swipes over her clit, swollen and throbbing, and she almost vaults off the bed.

“Yes, yes, I like your fingers in me!”

Steve leans down to lick at her nipple, closing his mouth around it, and then, his teeth. “You have such a pretty little pussy, doll.”

Toni whines and shifts restlessly.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call your pussy pretty?” he asks, a gleam to his pale eyes. “You felt so good around my cock, sweetheart, the best, so tight, so wet, so hot, so sweet, like that’s all you wanted in the world, my cock inside you. You were so good for me. You’re always so good for me.”

Toni tightens around those solid fingers inside her and _fuck_.

“That’s it, that’s my dirty, perfect girl. Your pussy’s so tight; it’s grippin’ me like a vice,” he drawls.

He has a hand around one of her tits, thumb dragging back and forth over her nipple.

She moans and thrusts back against his fingers, hips in the air.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You take what you want,” he soothes. “I’ll let you have it. I’m not teasin’, I swear. You fill yourself up with my fingers, my come, whatever you need, dirty girl.”

The tendon in her throat throbs against the skin.

“That’s my girl, _my_ girl, just mine, you were born for me, Toni,” he says, gently, eyes trained on her mouth, red and swollen. “Just like I was born for you. We’re meant for each other. You’re mine. I’m never… I’m never letting you go.”

“Just yours, I’m _yours_ ,” she cries out, even if it’s stupid, even if she doesn’t have half the right to him that Future Toni has, as his wife, the mother of his children, even if she’s setting herself up for defeat because she has to be patient, because he won’t stay.

“Yeah, you’re mine,” he says, lowly. “You know that even now, don’t you? My sweet girl, my sweet, beautiful, filthy girl, desperate for my fingers in you, huh? Desperate for me to make you come. That’s it, you come, Toni, you come for me, clench up around me, doll, _come_ -”

Toni comes in a bright, furious rush, her muscles seizing up, black spots dancing behind her eyes. The breath rushes out of her lungs, burning, squeezing, and her hands relax around the sheets, fingers curling and uncurling around air.

Her world reduces to a single point, the orgasm, like a sharp edge, and then the weight of it all collapses around her, and she’s sinking back against the sheets, sweat-damp and sated, feline and contented, her cunt throbbing and sensitive.

He swipes his thumb over her clit, and she jerks with a plaintive sigh, glaring at him. He just grins and withdraws his fingers, sucking them into his mouth to not waste a drop of her slick

She groans and turns onto her side.

“Don’t start that shit with me again,” she mutters.

He settles beside her, smoothing her hair out of her face, bringing her small, thin body against the bulk of his.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth against the curve of her jaw, just under her ear. “How do you feel?”

Toni stretches out her limbs, feels that pleasant soreness. “Like I had the best orgasm of my life,” she sighs in sweet, muzzy exhaustion.

“You going to sleep?” he asks, curving a hand over her hip.

“Yeah, probably.” She yawns. “I don’t think I can keep my eyes open.”

She feels him smile against her jaw.

“You sleep, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day,” he says, fond and gentle.

She unashamedly settles against his warm chest. “But if I do, you won’t be there when I get up,” she points out, not sad, but not happy at the same time, a strange, unsure emotion that she doesn’t quite know how to define.

Steve pauses, like he knows that she’s saying the truth, like there’s nothing that he can say that will make this parting better.

He kisses her again, slow and sweet.

“I love you,” he tells her, unbearably soft and sad. “I love you like this, and I love the woman I married and the woman who gave birth to my children and the woman who saves the world, saves all of us, saves _everyone_ with her mind and her beautiful, fierce heart. She, _you_ are the best of us, Antonia, and I will love every version of you.”

His voice rings brighter, bolder than gold, and heat curls in her lungs, in her heart, blissfully hot.

She makes a brief, incoherent sound against her sheet and falls asleep.

He won’t be there when she wakes up next.

One day, one day though, he will wake up next to her, his eyes pale in drowsy confusion, and he’ll hold her like this and he won’t let her go, and one day, he will bring her coffee in bed, after she’s brushed her teeth, and one day, there will be children that have their faces jumping on her bed, jerking her out of sleep.

He won’t be there when she wakes up next, but one day, he will be.

She’s settled for many things before, many things that eighteen-year-old girls shouldn’t have to settle for; she’s gotten the bare minimum she should expect from those around her and she always thought that was all she was worth, that was all she was owed.

But Steve said _no_ ; Steve said there was more out there for her, something better, more than just a bare minimum, and he was part of that something better.

All she had to do was wait.

God, she fucking hated waiting.


End file.
